It has been three weeks since my Dad passed away. We miss him. He was a loveable man who made you feel good just talking to him or being around him. We know that he is now free of a body that was damaged from a stroke 6 years ago. We know that he is once again busy working on some kind of project and visiting with loved ones who have passed on before. I miss him. He gave me a lifetime of loving guidance and encouragement. He taught me to love the Lord and he brought the blessings of the Restored Gospel into my life.
Readers who did not have the chance to know this very good man, can get acquainted with him in excerpts from tributes given by two of his grandsons at his funeral.
From Jared Sano:
"Grief, sadness, sorrow and heartache are felt by those that Carroll leaves behind; for surely we will miss the warm smiles, gifted story-telling and genuine concern and love that he exhibited for all. And while we long to have him back and to see him again, there are otheres that are rejoicing at his arrival. The last time I sat with Grandpa, Marsha shared with me that he yearned to see his mother and father again and it was only a short time before that when he expressed to me that he was ready to see what awaited him in the next life. The Lord said, "...those that die in me shall not taste of dearth, for it shall be sweet unto them." (Doctrine & Covenants 42:45-46) As I close my eyes, I envision the glorious scene of Grandpa finally able to see his mother again, to be able to sweetly embrace her.
"I, as with many of you, was fortunate enough to spend time with him in many of the hobbies he loved to do. I have fond memories of spending time in the summers helping him with projects around the house, working at Cove Point, going fishing and camping. We have spend alot of time on the road together, trips to Manti to see the pageant or a drive to Wyoming to see some family. And in all the time I spent with him, I came to clearly understand that there are two things that he loved more than anything else...his family and the Lord. Many hours wer spent in discussing the treasures of the gospel, the purpose of life and the importance of enduring to the end.
"I anxiously await the opportunity I will have to see Grandpa again. I am confident he will have many new friends to introduce and many tales to tell. But until that time, I will cherish the moments we had together, the memories we made and the legacy he left.
"Grandpa was a giant of a man in my eyes. He loved life, he loved his family and he loved the Lord. He taught me by example. He showed me the importance of keeping the commandments of God and the happiness and peace that comes from obedience."
From Keith Sano:
"I am exceptionally fortunate that my sons and I were able to see Grandpa a few days before he passed. He was feeling much better and looking forward to leaving the hospital.We caught up and chatted for a while. After he bombarded me with words of love and affection, we parted with a hug and a "see you soon".
"Shortly after he died, I grabbed a pen and a pad of paper and tried my best to translate my emotion into a written form. Here is what came out:
"He's not here, but I can feel him. His hands, impossibly large, scarred and calloused. The hand of a working man, a man who earns honest pay for honest labor, the kind of hands that built our nation. I feel the weight of them crushing my small shoulders, trapping me in a warm hug. I feel tiny, but safe, in his oversized arms. He smells of cologne, Elsha...I believe.
"He's not here, but I can see him. He's excited...showing me a new project he is working on, his latest trade (he being a Jack of them all). I marvel at his art and craftsmanship. He's at his bench grinder, sharpening and polishing a knife he made me, one of my most prized possessions, an heirloom that will be passed on for generation of his descendants. I see him focusing on the nearly invisible mon-filament, showing me how to tie a fishing knot. I see him grinding pork, teaching me how to make the perfect breakfast sausage.
"He's not here, but I can hear his words. Never angry, never insulting. Only words of kindness and compliment. He tells me that he loves me and that he is proud of me, words that young men won't publicly admit they crave like lungs crave air. As my pride and ego swell with his compliments, he is quick to point out his own flaws, his weaknesses and regrets; a truly humble man...
"He's not here. The world of light, love and goodness has lost one of its finest sons. And yet, the darkness does not spread. The cold does not bite harder. For his greatest gift has been given. It is the Light, the Fire, the Love that he spread to his family and friends. Like a contagion, it infects all the people he touched and inspired. I can see it on the faces in this room. I can feel it. And I am fortunate enough to have spent my life warmed by that fire, carried dutifull by his children..
"He's not here, and yet he is. He's right there, in that whiff of sawdust or lingering hint of Elsha cologne. In that taste of the Oyster Stew he used to make. In the detail of his creations, the intricate carvings on the Antler hilt of my knife. And in every American flag I see from this day forward, I will see him. For in our minds and our memories he exists, an immortal. And in that minds-eye, he is young again, healthy and full of life and love, smiling. And there her remains, until that time that questions cease and the answers to life's great riddle is revealed.
"By his own admittance, probably insistence, he wasn't perfect. The absence of errors or mistakes is an absence of life itself. We are all flawed, no one is perfect. And it is in this "balance sheet" of life that we discover Grandpa's vast wealth, being well prepared and in good standing for that sleep of death and what dreams may come.
"We are truly privileged to have been able to cal him Husband, Dad, Brother, Grandpa or Friend. It is my hope that we can honor him by carrying on his legacy of love, kindness and humility. He is a giant amongst men, and I, for one, stand proudly in the shadow of his Colossus."
